


Slumber

by Ruriska



Series: Sleeping Habits [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Shimadacest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 07:24:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11308551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruriska/pseuds/Ruriska
Summary: Genji finds his brother sleeping.





	Slumber

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently I really like this series, here's another one!

Genji paces back and forth.

Step, step, step, step, stop, turn.

Repeat. 

There is a light snore from the couch.

Hanzo is out cold, sleeping. Turned onto his side, one arm limp and the other pillowed under his head. He must have been exhausted to let himself fall asleep here, out in the open.

There is too much saliva in Genji’s mouth.

He swallows it down, sucks more from his cheeks, feels his belly lurch.

Every movement he makes is restless, too much blood in his veins, too much prickling under his skin. He wants to run and jump but he confines himself to his pacing.

Step, step, step, step, stop, turn.

He can’t rip his eyes away from his brother. There is something about him when he slumbers. Something so very soft, so very _perfect_. This is the brother he wants. This is Hanzo without the judgement, the frown, the anger, the cold distance. 

His hair is long and dark.

His mouth is open.

Lips plush.

Inviting.

Genji is already hard.

He is thinking about that morning, the one they never speak of, the one he tries to avoid in his thoughts but haunts him anyway. Hanzo’s weight, heavy and hot. Desire so overwhelming it consumed all thought, all cares and worries.

Step, step... stop.

Genji stands above his brother, looms.

He is hardly aware his actions, the sink of his hand, the way it slides down his loose slacks and wraps around his dick. Hanzo remains unaware, peaceful. 

Genji can feel the nervous sweat on his back and under his arms. His gaze flicks towards the doorway, then it is back, drinking in the sight his brother so sweet and gentle. He wonders if Hanzo is dreaming, or if there is nothing in his mind but darkness. 

If he does dream, is Genji in them? Do they fuck? Or is that only in Genji’s dreams? Disorientating in their realness, his brother rutting into him, his desperate breaths against Genji’s skin. Pain and pleasure. There is too much desire. It’s all twisted.

The dragon is loud again, whining deep down, _wanting_.

His heart sets itself into a gallop; he can feel it in his throat. 

He strokes himself with his sweaty hand.

His toes curl.

“Hanzo,” he says.

If Hanzo wakes now he will find his brother standing over him, a hand down his tented pants. But he doesn’t wake. His sleep remains unbroken. His breathing remains even. He is still the perfect temptation.

Genji shuffles forward.

His toes hit the side of the couch.

He assesses. 

He will have to bend, if he wants to do this. Of course he wants to do this. 

Genji pulls his pants down, just enough to let his cock out. The tip is already too red, an angry red, as if he’s been edging himself for hours. He holds it firmly, fingers tight near the base as he bends his knees. It’s awkward. 

So he rests one knee on the couch instead, feels the cushion dip, dislodging a long strand of Hanzo’s hair. It slides along his cheek. Genji lets himself go to reach out. He tucks it back behind Hanzo’s ear. His fingers barely slide along the skin but his breath hitches, his fingertips burn. 

The muscles in his belly tighten as he hunches over.

He feels sick and feverish.

Cock in hand again he eases forward, slowly, slowly, gently, just enough to -

Genji bites back a moan just from the sight, as he pushes the leaking tip against Hanzo’s lips.They are soft; giving beneath the slight pressure. A warm breath ghosts across the slit, makes his groin tighten almost painfully. He leaves a shiny smear when he pulls away.

 _More_.

He repeats the action, this time pushing until he feels the firmness of teeth. There he holds, trembling, hips locked painfully. His breath is short and sharp, he feels light headed. 

His grip on his cock is too tight, unforgiving. It feels as though he is the verge of combusting. It’s too much. He can’t breathe now.

Hanzo would hate this, would hate him. He would never let Genji do this. Or maybe he would and Genji is simply too afraid to ask, too afraid of what it would mean. Sometimes he isn’t sure if his desire is even his own, or if it’s the creature living beneath his skin, the one that is always so very hungry. 

When he starts teasing his cock along the seam of Hanzo’s lips and up to his cheek, it’s with reverence. His brother’s face is a work of art. It always has been. Now even more so with streaks of pre-cum along his cheekbones, across the bridge of his nose, down along the strong line of his chin. 

Genji paints him, marks him.

But he can do better.

He needs to do better.

Holding back isn’t an option any more.

Genji angles his hips back just enough and starts to pump his fist in short and sharp movements along his dick. He works himself roughly, without finesse. The foreskin pulls down, across his glans, cum bubbles and makes the space within his tight fist slick. This is a race to the finish line. He doesn’t want it to last. He builds the friction with quick jerks, body curled over, muscles tensed.

When he comes, it is only with a grunt. 

His mouth hangs open, dragging in shuddering breaths, as he drinks in the sight of his cum spurting across his brother’s face. He aims as best he can, marvels as it lands hot and white, dripping between Hanzo’s slightly parted lips.

Beautiful. 

There are splashes in hair, stripes on flawless skin, flecks of white on gently fluttering eyelids. 

Then the moment is gone.

The rush recedes too quickly.

Leaves him in a cold sweat, chest heaving and cock going limp in his grasp.

When Genji stands up from his awkward hunched crouch, he can feel the strain in his lower back. He still can’t look away yet, has to reach out and swipe his fingers along Hanzo’s cheeks, uses the tips of his fingers to rub his cum into the skin. This is it. This is all he can have.

He pulls his pants up but he can’t hide his shame. He can’t wipe away his actions. 

He can’t pretend he doesn’t long for so much more.

This time when he leaves, he doesn’t look back.


End file.
